


Jail Tales

by ashtraythief



Series: Underneath 'verse [22]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternative Universe - FBI, Crimes & Criminals, Don't copy to another site, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, POV Outsider, Prison, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-02-16 09:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: Tails from jail.Chapter 1: Cons are the worst gossips.Chapter 2: After taking the fall for Jared, Jake goes to jail.





	1. Courtyard Gossip

**Author's Note:**

> Betad by the wonderful ilikaicalie and masja_17. All the hearts and chocolates for you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while I wrote Pressure Point, but it never really fit into the pacing of the main story. But since I like people talking about Jared and Jensen, I kept it and I just hope you’ll also enjoy it. Takes place during Pressure Point while Jensen is in prison.  
> If you want faces for these characters, most of these come from the spn episode Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox.

 

 

Darren Scott had been in prison enough times that he’d developed a sixth sense for when shit was about to go down. So when he noticed that the members of the most powerful gangs were starting to watch the door, Darren abandoned the workout space and sat down at a corner bench with a bunch of the most harmless guys around. If something was about to go down, he was not going to be in the middle of it. He’d gotten a shiv to his hip during his last stint in prison. He hadn’t even pissed anyone off, but during a riot, all bets were off. Darren had learned to be careful.

He sat down at the end of a bench, next to Katz and Stroper. How those two had ended up together he didn’t know because Katz was as dumb as a bag of bricks and Stroper had no patience for idiots whatsoever. There were a bunch of other guys sitting at the table too, but Darren sat down next to Stroper and gave him a nod.

Stroper raised a grey eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Darren shrugged. “Don’t know yet.”

Katz blinked. “Going on where?”

That moment, the door to the courtyard opened, and slowly, all conversations petered out.

A guy came in; tall, short light brown hair. Sharp, pretty features. Bowlegged, self-assured swagger.

Jensen Campbell.

Holy shit.

Campbell looked around the courtyard for a moment, eyebrows raised and mouth quirked in amusement. Then Volcheck walked over to him. “Mr. Campbell,” he said, loud enough that everyone could hear his deep voice. “The boss asked me to show you around. Make sure you’re welcome here.”

Volchek was a big guy, tall and barrel-chested, covered in tattoos from head to foot and a scar across his throat. Rumor was the Russian mob had tried to hang him, but it hadn’t stuck. He was a high ranking officer for Padalecki and the message was clear. He’d look after Campbell personally.

Campbell sighed. “Of course he did. Volchek, right?”

Volchek seemed pleasantly surprised that Campbell knew who he was.

“Alright then.”

Volchek nodded and led Campbell over to where the rest of the Knights were sitting. The Knights were a fairly new prison gang, named after their allegiance to Padalecki. Darren wasn’t sure how big they were on the federal level, but they were the ones with the most clout in the Illinois prison system. He was planning on joining them as soon as he was sentenced and transferred to prison.

Volchek grandly introduced Campbell to the rest of the Knights. Campbell made himself comfortable on the bench that two guys vacated so he could stretch out.

“Who’s that?” Stroper asked quietly.

“Dude, that’s Campbell,” Katz whispered, way too loud. “Padalecki’s boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Stroper said softly. “Now the stories make a lot more sense.”

Darren suppressed a snort. He knew the stories Stroper alluded to, how Campbell was so pretty Padalecki had gone absolutely crazy over him. How Campbell had stolen a painting from Padalecki’s well protected office, but instead of skinning him alive, Padalecki had taken him out on a date. If you asked Darren there had to be more to Campbell than a pretty face. A man like Padalecki didn’t go crazy over just a hot piece of ass.

Granted, Padalecki’s boyfriend was a real pretty boy if Darren had ever seen one. But he also wasn’t.

He’d seen the boss and his boyfriend once, about a year ago, at the Nine. He’d thought the boss’s boyfriend looked exactly what he thought gay arm candy would look like; pretty, tiny, tight pants and perfectly styled hair. Now Darren realized that he’d forgotten that next to Padalecki everyone looked tiny.

Campbell was pretty, no question, even a red-blooded straight guy like Darren could see that. Long dark bambi eyelashes and a full mouth made for sucking cock. But he was tall, probably as tall as Darren, who was six-one on good days. Campbell wasn’t slim either, the contours of surprisingly muscular shoulders and arms visible under the peel.

“Whatcha starin’ at Padalecki’s boyfriend for?” Katz asked. “You a fag now too?”

“I’d keep my voice down if I were you,” Stroper said in his cultivated professor voice. “Padalecki has killed men for using that word. Besides, it’s antiquated and embarrassingly homophobic.”

“Hey, I ain’t got nothing against homosexuals,” Katz said defensively. “I just don’t want any of them hittin’ on me.”

Stroper slowly looked Katz up and down. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Katz gaped and Darren laughed. Yeah, Katz was an ugly son of a bitch. A weasel face and a receding hairline so deep, he was almost half bald. No one in their right mind would hit on that.

“How are we talkin’ ‘bout me? Darren was eyefucking Padalecki’s boyfriend!”

Stroper looked at Darren with his clear light blue eyes, analyzing him as if he was a rare artifact. Stroper was a professor of archeology and he’d made his money smuggling art in from overseas, exploiting refugee children or some other cold-hearted shit. Darren didn’t like people who preyed on children, but Stroper was a damn good chess player and Darren had at least a month to kill before his trial.

“I won’t judge,” Stroper said with a small smile, “but Padalecki would probably kill you if he saw you staring like that.”

“Fucks sake, I’m not gay,” Darren said. “I was just curious about him. There are stories.”

“What kinda stories?” Katz asked almost fearfully.

Darren shrugged. “I don’t know. He was supposed to be arm candy, just a pretty thief, but when Padalecki got shot,” Darren lowered his voice, “he went off the rails. Threatened gang leaders to find out who shot him.”

“I heard about that.” Brandt leaned over from the other side of the table. He wasn’t a particularly gifted con, but he was one of the biggest gossips in town. “Killed Andrew’s pet snake barehanded. I didn’t believe it before, but now…” He threw a pointed look at Campbell who’d started working out in the corner, pulling himself up at the rec bars, effortlessly managing at least five pull-ups, thick muscles bulging.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Stroper said with that condescending tone that would get him punched in the face sooner than later. “He’s a thief. It’s a fairly acrobatic occupation. When he broke into the Miami Panorama Tower last year, he had to climb six stories by hand because the rope wasn’t long enough.”

“Yeah, he’s a badass son of a bitch,” Brandt said. “But he has to be if Padalecki’s dating him.”

“So you believe all the stories?” Darren asked curiously. The story about Campbell pulling off a heist by camping out in a ventilation shaft for two days just had to be exaggerated.

Brandt snorted. “He’s not just arm-candy, okay? They’re in a real relationship. And Padalecki wouldn’t date some pretty wimp. Actually,” Brandt said with a grin, “I heard Campbell really made him work for it.”

“Oh?” Stroper looked intrigued.

Brandt grinned and scooted up to them. He loved to be the center of attention.

“Oh yeah. So, two years ago, Campbell came to town after wreaking havoc in all those fancy old museums in Europe, right? And some corporate rival of Padalecki hired him to steal from Padalecki. And Campbell did.”

“No way!” Katz said. “How’s he still breathing?”

“Too pretty to kill.” Brandt leaned forward. “But Campbell didn’t put out. He traded a favor, broke into the fucking police headquarters for him, and then only _after_ went on a date with Padalecki. They fucked around for a while and then Campbell just left. Didn’t like the mob life.”

“But he’s here now,” Stroper said.

Brandt nodded. “Yeah, he came back eventually. But one of my buddies runs with the Hell’s Angels and he told me Padalecki was in a shit mood the entire time Campbell was gone. Killed a man because he broke a sink.”

“Why did he come back, you think?” Stroper asked. “You’re right, thieves usually stay far away from the mob.”

“I heard Padalecki got a monster dong,” Katz threw in.

Stroper rolled his eyes.

Brandt snorted. “Yeah, but that’s not a reason to give up your entire life. Apparently, they’re the real deal. My ex used to work in the Nine and every time Padalecki and Campbell are there, they’re all over each other. But apparently not only in the sex kind of way. I don’t know.” He made a throwaway hand motion. “She always told me I should look at her like Padalecki looks at Campbell and then she wouldn’t need to bitch me out.”

“Considering she’s your ex, I assume that didn’t work,” Darren said.

Brandt shot him a dark look. “She left town to help out her parents, fucker.”

“Dude!” Katz’s voice was incredulous. He was staring at Campbell.

Darren looked over to see Rodriguez and Dryer approach Campbell. They were both tall beefy guys. Rodriguez was an enforcer for the La13 and Dryer worked for Wick. Their bosses were rivals, they shouldn’t be standing next to each other. But now both of them walked up to Campbell and shook hands with him.

Behind Campbell, Volchek and another guy were watching everything with hawk eyes. The message was clear. Touch Campbell and you die.

“Good to met you, Mr. Campbell,” Dryer said and his voice carried.

Yeah, no one was going to touch Campbell while he was in here. It wasn’t like everyone didn’t still remember that Padalecki had roasted O’Leary alive. You did not mess with the King.

“Did you hear about the time Campbell stole a diamond necklace during a party with just a bottle of champagne, a bowl of shrimp, and some aluminum foil?” Brandt said into the silence.

“Really?” Stroper asked. “A colleague of mine told me Campbell stole a bunch of Egyptian artifacts from a private collection in broad daylight. Just strolled in pretending to be an art authenticator and everyone just believed him. They actually _handed_ him the artifacts. And because the artifacts were smuggled they couldn’t even go to the police.”

Darren tore his eyes away from Campbell who was still holding court like he was fucking Cleopatra. The sun was dancing on his hair and he threw charming smiles around like they cost him nothing. Darren’s pants got a little tight.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the straightest guy in the world, but that had never been something he liked to think about too much. And Campbell’s beauty was almost hypnotic. He’d ping anyone who was just the littlest bit gay. Darren could probably stare at him for the rest of the day and not get bored. Instead, he turned back to the gossip in time to hear Brandt launch into the tale of how Campbell had robbed the New York diamond exchange with Heyerdahl, which would undoubtedly end in the story of Heyerdahl’s gruesome murder. Padalecki had personally beat him to death with his bare hands. Darren had seen Padalecki often enough that he had no trouble believing the story.

“And so when Heyerdahl got out of prison, he came straight to Chicago. But Campbell didn’t have the money. So that fool _kidnapped_ Campbell. And when Padalecki found out...”

Darren put his elbows on the table. Yeah, there were worse ways to pass the time.


	2. Jake in Jail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking the fall for Jared killing Busy Philipps, Jake Abel goes to jail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the prompt meme: For the anon who asked, what happened to abel going to jail for Jared? Did he ever get him out?  
> Many thanks to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for betaing!

 

If Jake didn't give up Padalecki, then he’d go away for first-degree murder, the DA said. Sheppard just smiled at her and told her to give it her best shot.

Sheppard’s team found the gas station Busy stopped at on her way to the nursing home. They got a statement from the gas station attendant and the security tapes showing her walking inside to pay cash for the gas. It proved that Busy had traveled alone. Of her own free will. Without telling the Marshal’s protecting her where she was going.

Mike and Abel had actually used her car to drive to the warehouse, so they had that too. Then Sheppard dug into Busy’s past, the drugs and the money problems. He found it all. He had several people testify, friends, associates, doctors. He had credit card bills and the mortgage on the house. It was pretty damning. Busy was in way over her head, and when she got caught, she thought she could lie about Jensen to get a deal.

Sheppard pointed out DeKay’s obsession with Jensen, how Busy would have known about it, how she’d have used it to get out of her life and start over in witsec. Her mom was fading fast and would be dead soon anyway, Busy had nothing holding her back. So she just lied about her accomplice—because seriously, there was no way to prove the leg from the heist’s tape was Jensen. And on the stand, DeKay had to admit that he’d been hunting Jensen for a while. He tried to make the case that he couldn’t touch him because of his boyfriend, how Padalecki—

“Objection, your honor,” Sheppard cut in. “Slander. And not relevant.”

“Sustained,” the judge said and the prosecutor looked like he’d bitten into a sour apple.

And then the time came for Jake to make his statement in court.

Jake was wearing a slightly too big suit with a neat tie. We want you young, Sheppard had said, so come clean-shaven. We’re going to make them see a young man, in way over his head.

There were at least three motherly matrons on the jury. They looked like they wanted to feed Jake cookies.

They milked Jake’s sob story. How he’d grown up poor, how his parents split, how he’d lived with a drunken uncle while his mother slowly died of cancer. Sheppard left out Jake’s two stints in juvie, which were blessedly sealed. But Sheppard asked him about how Mr. Padalecki had given him a job, despite Jake’s lack of a college degree. How Jake had worked his way up, starting with cleaning Mr. Padalecki's pool. How Mr. Padalecki and Mr. Campbell had been kind and let him sleep at the house when he was between apartments. How Mr. Padalecki had given Jake a real job at his IT company. How Jake knew that the FBI was hounding Mr. Padalecki, how his enemies were trying to destroy his reputation by any means necessary. How he’d just wanted to protect Mr. Campbell and Mr. Padalecki, how he’d wanted to pay them back for all their generosity when he had nothing.

As a character witness, Sheppard called in twenty people from the buddy program where Jake volunteered in his free time. The program helped high school kids from bad situations to stay on track, to finish high school. And they did. No one needed to know that a few of them made some extra money working for Jared and that Chad and Rosey recruited the best among them after they graduated.

When it came to talking about the actual shooting, Jake cried. Not full out sobbing, no, just bravely battling back the tears, when he told the jury about how he’d talked to Busy, how he’d asked her to stop lying about Jensen. How he’d just wanted to scare her, but she’d jumped him and the gun had gone off. How he’d panicked, lost his mind because he never wanted to hurt anyone. He’d done this, all of this, so no one would get hurt in the first place. Jake sniffled—-no tissue, Sheppard had said, we’re going to give the jury a lost little orphan boy—and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw one of the matrons dab at her eye.

In the end, Jake was convicted of manslaughter. Six years. The prosecutor had demanded the maximum of eight years, but Sheppard was just really good at his job.

Six years. Jake couldn’t help but smile.

Jared was in the courtroom with Jensen, both of them serious during the trial. And after the verdict, Jared was in the front row, putting a hand on Jake’s shoulder when he walked by.

“I won’t forget this, Jake,” he said quietly. “You’re part of my crew, always.”

Jake nodded, then he was led out of the courthouse to the police car. Outside, they’d all lined up. Chad, Rosey, Rachel, Misha, the twins. They didn’t say anything, but they didn’t have to. They were there.

Jake walked out of the courthouse with light steps. He knew that being loyal was the right choice. Jared, this crew, they were the right people to be loyal too. They were family.

 

 

 

Before the trial, Rosey had given him a pep talk and a list of advice for going to jail. Jake knew he had a baby face. But he was serving time for Jared, surely that would help.

It didn’t stop him from being nervous.

At his first lunch in the cafeteria, he could feel all eyes on him. Some of the looks were mildly curious, but some of the cons were eyeing him speculatively. They were sizing him up, his babyface, his slender build. One of the guys was definitely staring at his ass. Jake’s palms started sweating.

He got his food and tried not to shake. He gripped his tray tightly. Then a tall, broad guy stood up from one of the tables in the middle and the room fell quiet. The guy had a scar across his throat and was covered in tattoos.

Jake let out a breath of relief.

“Abel,” Volchek said. “Sit with us.”

Head held high, Jake walked over to them, then sat down.

Volchek clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We know what you did. You’re a good man. Welcome to the Pontiac Correctional Center.”

Volchek went around the table, introducing the core member of the Knights, Padalecki’s own prison gang. Jake shook hands and noticed a shield divided into five fields on all their forearms. Some of them only had a lion head in the middle field, others had more symbols. Volchek had a lion in the middle and a knight with a morning star in the upper left corner. Two fields were empty, the lower right one contained four swords. One for every man he’d killed.

When Volchek saw him looking, he nodded. “We’re gonna get you some ink tomorrow. The lion, for the boss. And a castle, for the protection you gave him.”

And with that, every con in the place knew that Abel was part of the Knights. No one was going to bother him. Jake smiled and picked up a piece of fried chicken. It didn’t even taste half bad.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can come find me on tumblr [here](http://ashtraythief.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [here.](https://twitter.com/ashtraythief) My ask box is always open.


End file.
